Tales from the Temple
by Jedi Writer 28
Summary: Everyone knows the thrilling exploits of the Jedi Knights. Yet few have seen where these noble warriors find their start. This series of one-shots attempts to capture the triumphs, the struggles, and the absurd situations of the Jedi Temple.
1. Keala

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.

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Keala stared groggily at the ceiling above her bunk. She just laid there, gazing without seeing. She knew she should rouse herself and meditate, but she couldn't find the will power to do so. She didn't want to face another day of monotony. She didn't want to face another day as a failure.

Keala allowed her thoughts to wander. She meandered through her childhood. The memories of her family were faint, within sight, but just beyond her grasp. Stronger were her memories of her early life at the Jedi Temple. She wound her way through long days spent tirelessly studying and training. Endless lessons and insistent training exercises stood out one by one in her mind before melding into an indistinguishable mass: her first instruction in lightsaber technique, when she had injured another student with a generally harmless training saber. Master Cyprin's lessons on different cultures, which she consistently fell asleep during. The first time she succeeded in using the Force to lift a feather, about a month after the other younglings. Master Yoda's words to her at the beginning of the lesson when she was so discouraged that she wanted to give up: "True failure there is only when try one does not."

'Well,' Keala thought, 'I don't want to be a _true_ failure, now do I?' She sat up slowly, trying to find her center and stop the stream of memories. The attempt was futile. Keala walked slowly to her bureau and removed a clean tunic from the upper drawer.

"I can't do this anymore!" she screamed as she spun suddenly around, hurling the tunic against the wall, "I'm seventeen!" Suddenly exhausted, Keala backed up to the wall and slowly sank to sit on the floor. She didn't cry. She just sat there with her eyes closed, and her head on her knees, not moving, not thinking. All that existed was her frustration and anguish.

Seventeen is not an important age for the Jedi. The only important birthday is thirteen. For padawans who have been selected by Jedi Masters, the thirteenth birthday is an occasion for reflection. For students who have not been selected, the thirteenth birthday is the deadline, the point of no return. Keala's thirteenth birthday had come four years ago, without a Jedi Master. She hadn't been surprised. Cruel students had called her a 'fail Jedi' many times and she couldn't disagree with them. Keala rarely did anything right, and when she did it was usually long after everyone else had moved on. Her lightsaber technique was jerky and unnatural. Her control of the force was erratic. And, unfortunately, she had devoted so much time to working on these areas, Keala had neglected her other studies, areas in which she could have excelled. Though she understood and tried to accept her inabilities, every new failure stung and, deep in her heart, she still struggled to accept her fate.

After her thirteenth birthday, Keala had been assigned to work in the Jedi Archives. She was very good at her work. This was a refreshing change from her usual ineptitude, but the work was monotonous. A sense of frustration grew over the long years. Keala, like all Jedi younglings, had imagined herself fighting for peace and justice in the galaxy. Her dreams for her future never involved organizing data pads, one of her never-ending tasks. Worst of all, because she was still at the Jedi Temple, she was constantly reminded of the life she had lost.

Keala took several deep, steadying breaths, trying to summon the Force. Slowly, its calming presence wrapped around her. Keala opened her eyes and slowly stood. She walked quietly across the room and retrieved her tunic from the floor. She changed and began to leave. Her hand hesitated on the door's control pad. Despair spread across her features. 'Can I really go on like this?'

Excruciatingly slowly, a tiny, sad smile appeared on Keala's face. She remembered one more lesson. It was eight years ago, and she had almost forgotten it.

**. . .**

Keala had just spent a hard day training, with very little success. She was tired, sore, hungry, and despondent. Her own despair had overcome her and she was curled up, sobbing, in an isolated corner of the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was there that Master Tahl, who had recently lost her sight on a mission, found her.

"What's the matter, child?" Reluctantly at first and still weeping, Keala shamefully told the Jedi Master everything. She told her about her anger and frustration at herself for not being able to do anything right. She describe episode after episode of attempt and failure. Finally, she told the Jedi Master about her fear of never being good enough to be a padawan learner.

Master Tahl listen solemnly as the young girl, unloaded her grief, doubt, fears, and dreams. When Keala had finished, the great master sat thoughtfully for a moment and then spoke to the child before continuing on her way.

"The lesson you are trying to understand is one that even some of the wisest Jedi struggle with. It is one that I have been trying to learn ever since I lost my sight. Most of us can never fully understand it. We must only trust that it is true. The lesson is this: Each of us serves in our own way. We all have a purpose. Even if it is too complex for us to understand today, if we persevere, it may be revealed to us tomorrow as something greater than we imagine. We'll never know if we don't try."

**. . .**

Returning to the present, but keeping the memory close to her heart, Keala opened the door.

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I hope you enjoyed Keala's story. Thank you for taking the time to read it. Please read and review. Hopefully, there will be another Tale for this collection soon! May the Force be with you!

J.W.


	2. Dance Class

Finally, another look into life at the Jedi Temple! A big thank you to silver-nightstorm and Ms. Writeable This for their reviews! The opening quote was featured as Wookieepedia's quote of the day and is not my creation.

And, in case you forgot, I don't own Star Wars.

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"A warrior who cannot dance? Clumsy in both war and peace he is." The young teenage padawans watched Master Yoda warily. They were battle trained and tested Jedi warriors, though, admittedly, they still needed to ask for the permission of their Masters in order to go to the restroom while on a mission. Still, why did they need to learn to dance?

"Wondering you are why important dancing is. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. Yet, warriors must be aware of their bodies. Move quickly they cannot if the art of moving slowly they do not know." After this, nothing else meaningful was said. Although the teacher continued speaking for a good ten minutes, the result was a series of textbook sayings fed through a food processor. It was rather boring. It even looked as if Garen Muln had fallen asleep, though he later claimed that those rumors were completely unsubstantiated. Finally, it was over.

"A simple box step I will teach you. Watch as demonstrate Master Yaddle and I do." The two diminutive Jedi masters performed the basic waltz. Numerous teenagers suppressed fits of giggles. "Find a partner everyone will." Throughout the room, padawans turned their mental finallys into unfortunatelys. Leery apprentice eyes glanced nervously around the room. They'd split pretty evenly when they'd entered: girls went left and boys went right. And Master Windu had gone to the far corner and was standing there creepily staring at everyone. But that was beside the point; Master Windu was always pretty creepy. The point was they were all in their awkward stages, though, technically, they all knew that Jedi weren't supposed to have those. No one moved.

"I see. Assign partners myself I must." That was how a sixteen year old Obi-wan Kenobi ended up holding hands with a fourteen year old Siri Tachi. He hadn't quite gotten up enough nerve to place his other hand on her waist. He noted, much to his dismay, that his palms were sweating.

"Come on." Siri urged in a terse whisper, "Let's just get this over with so we can go back to lightsaber practice." In the background, some soft, slow music started. Hesitant, and increasingly aware of the irregularity of his heartbeat, he considered moving his other hand. The decision was made for him as Siri grabbed it and placed it on her hip only moments before Master Yoda walked by to check on them. For a moment, the two padawans just stood there. Siri cleared her throat, "You're supposed to lead."

"Oh yeah, right." Staring down at his feet, Obi-wan mentally talked himself through the movements of the box step. _Forward on the left. Step right on the right foot. Feet together. Backwards on the right foot. _"Ow!" His gaze shifted from his feet to the small, green Jedi master who had just whacked him with his walking stick.

"So interesting your feet are not! At your partner look!" Master Yoda hadn't whacked Siri. Obi-wan wondered if she'd been looking at her feet or if she'd been looking at him and thinking he was a complete nerf herder.

"Ready to try again?" Siri asked. Obi-wan nodded centering himself for a second attempt. He took his first step, fighting the urge to look at his feet. He looked into Siri's eyes. He had never realized they were blue. They reminded him of his lightsaber. Her eyes were a brighter and more vibrant shade of blue, but they had they same glow that came from within. Lost in her eyes, Obi-wan forgot the need to look at his feet. "Ouch!" He had also forgotten to pay attention to where he put them; he had stepped on Siri's foot.

"I'm so sorry, Siri. I didn't mean to. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Shall we try again?" Before Obi-wan could answer, Master Windu decided to intervene with Yoda's lesson.

"Master Yoda," said the tough and intimidating Jedi master, "You cannot expect these padawans to perform this dance in public. They'll be laughed out of the room and the Jedi Order will be disgraced. If they must dance, they need to be taught something more respectable for a warrior."

"Have something else in mind do you? Very few dances better than the box step are. For the padawans demonstrate." Without further encouragement, Master Windu strode over to the speaker controls to select his dance music. The apprentices hurried to the sides of the room. The tall Jedi master positioned himself in the center of the room. A sweeping classical theme began to play. The powerful Jedi shouted the moves as he danced.

"Plié! Glissade! Grand jeté! 32 fouetté en tournant!"

Obi-wan couldn't help chuckling when Siri leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Strike like a krayt dragon; float like a beldon."

**. . .**

Half a standard hour later, after Master Windu had performed a large portion of _Thranta Lake_, Master Yoda called an end to the lesson. "Over this party is... erm... Class dismissed." The padawans filed out of the room as quickly as they could fit through the door, which suddenly seemed too small.

"Impressive line" Master Windu said as he took off his point shoes, "Mind if I use it sometime?"

Siri and Obi-wan followed at the end of the line of apprentices. "Well," Obi-wan declared, "this has been a really weird afternoon."

"Yeah," Siri replied, stopping to look at her former dance partner and blushing slightly, "but it was still nice."

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A huge appology to any dancers out there. I know dancing, especially ballet is very difficult and requires alot of strength. You have my utmost respect and admiration. I hope you enjoyed this latest installment. Please review!

J.W.


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